The Never Ending Challenge
by TheFreakyMentalSociety
Summary: A continuous challenge created and continued by FMS. Enjoy.
1. Rules

**Well, this here would be the never-ending challenge, created by the amazing FreakyMentalSociety girls, A.K.A us! Yay! The rules are actually from valele's challenge, and we decided we were doing it here, and we were all collaborating.**

**Here are the rules: **

"This isn't a story, it's my very own song fic challenge! I thought of this when I told Ada to write a song fic on one song, and that she _had_ to do it. Anyways, I remembered how she had her own rules for an iPod challenge, and I wanted to do something like that.

The rules are that you get someone to do this with you, anyone who likes to write. Then, you each suggest a song for each other, and they _have_ to do that song, no matter what they say or if they hate it or anything. It's potentially evil, I know. You don't have to do it with someone else, though – you can just ask someone for a song. But the whole point is that someone else picks for you – no putting your iPod on shuffle or anything, because you know the songs on there.

Okay, now that you have a song, pick a fandom and a pairing, and you're all set to write! Have fun, and don't forget to tell your friends!"

**So we do that with each other, and it's never-ending, basically! Haha, pretty easy, right?**


	2. Hallelujah

**(Insert from FreakyGeniusGirl aka pyrolyn-776: valele aka FreakyLanguageGirl wrote this one and was challenged by DramaticStarlet aka FreakyOneshotGirl. Enjoy!)**

* * *

Hallelujah

_It feels like we're running out of time, but we've got all the time in the world._

I gather my clothes up in my arms and walk into the bathroom quietly, not wanting to wake Shane up. I shouldn't be here, and we both know that – getting caught would be harmful for us both.

Not a minute later, I exit the bathroom dressed already, only to see Shane sitting up on the bed, awake. He smiles sleepily at me, then his head falls down on the pillow again.

I laugh quietly, and walk over to the bed. With one hand, I push the hair on his forehead back, and kiss him there. He mumbles unintelligibly, and suddenly, I'm on the bed with him, my legs dangling over the edge and my face close to his. He doesn't need to say anything, I know what he wants – and even though I shouldn't give in, I do. I kiss him hungrily, because even after last night, I still want him desperately.

He wakes up pretty quickly once I kiss him, and soon enough, he's on top of me (somehow, he always ends up on top) and my legs are around his waist. I kiss his neck, moving up and down, and his hands are rubbing my back, slowly moving my shirt up.

Not wanting to let him be in control, I flip us over with some difficulty. He grumbles a bit, but I know he enjoys it, too. It's his turn to kiss my neck, while I run my hands through his hair. He gets to that one spot he knows drives me crazy, and I can't contain the moan forming in my throat.

He shushes me, smirking, and I decide to get revenge. My hands move to his lower back, and my fingers rest on the waistband of his boxers. I don't have to worry about a shirt because he never put his back on last night. With my hands moving up his back slowly, I rub it in slow circles, and I feel him stiffen under me. I've got him exactly where I wanted him.

We kiss furiously, heatedly – kissing is always like that with us. It's a fight, a battle for total control – much like the previous "argument" about who would be on top. It's our stubborn personalities that cause this, and it might annoy the hell out of me sometimes, but I wouldn't have it any other way. There's just no one who would challenge me like he does.

_I can't give him up the same as I can't live with him._

Shane smirks at me across the table, and I ignore him. His steady gaze never leaves my face as I eat my breakfast, but I know how risky that is – any sign that we're together, and we're screwed. It just can't happen that way, not with me being a camper and Shane being a counselor, not with me having a steady (if boring) boyfriend back at home and Shane having about three girlfriends back in L.A. But we can't let go of each other; we can't leave. We're trapped in this hole, and we don't want it any other way.

Shane's foot touches my calf, and I kick him, but he ignores it, just going farther up my leg. I shiver with his touch, but try to remain calm. I need to keep my poker face or someone will notice. At some point, it becomes unbearable, and I stand up abruptly. His foot was between my thighs already, and any higher up and I wouldn't be able to hold it anymore.

Ignoring Mitchie's question, I leave the Mess Hall and walk into his cabin, knowing he'll follow soon after, and I'm right. Not a minute later, I'm against the wall, his lips against mine, his hands on my hips and pulling me closer and mine in his hair. We remove each other's clothing quickly, shirts on the floor and pants somewhere along the way. I love the way he presses me up against the wall, and I know he does too.

He hitches my leg up to his waist, and I moan quietly. It's always quiet, what we do – we really worry about people finding out. It's quiet and physical – so physical I sometimes wonder if there's any more to our relationship than that, the sex and the excitement of it.

But there is, and even as we hide away in Shane's cabin, overtaken with passion and whatever else it is that makes us do this, I can tell. I don't just go to Shane for good sex, I definitely don't. But right now, it's all that's on my mind, as he lays butterfly kisses all over my collarbone and lower than that.

There's really no way to explain how he makes me feel – it's truly indescribable. It's overwhelming, the way I feel; it makes me dizzy and confused, yet alive and awake. It might not make sense to anyone, but it does to me.

Suddenly, I'm sitting on the chair next to the window, and Shane's standing by our wall, a confused expression on his face. I don't even know what's going on, or I'm not sure, but I know I'm the one that started it. I burst into tears, and they surprise me. Why am I crying?

They surprise Shane, too, because immediately, he's by me, hugging me and wiping the tears gently off my face. But it doesn't help – if anything, it just makes it worse, and I quickly put my shirt on, running out the cabin.

I don't care if anyone sees me, but luckily, no one does, and I reach my destination without being seen. I sit down, still crying – I don't know why I'm crying, why these tears are falling down my face, but they are, and I can't stop them. I'm trying, I'm trying to stop, I'm trying to calm down, but nothing seems to work.

I feel someone's arms around my shoulders, pulling me closer. It's not Shane, I know it isn't. It's a girl, but who would it be? Oh, of course. Mitchie. She's my best friend, and even she doesn't know about Shane – that's how secretive we've been.

I'm still crying, but she doesn't ask anything. She just sits there and holds me. At some point, I start muttering things in my crying, things that I doubt she understands, but I do. "It's too much," I say. "I can't handle it."

Mitchie still doesn't ask, and I feel grateful. But then I hear someone else's footsteps, and I know it's Shane right away. I don't think anything while Mitchie gets up, and now it's Shane turn to hold me. I don't think anything while he plays with my hair, while he puts his arms around my waist. But when he kisses my cheek softly, I think of something.

I think of why I'm doing this, what's happening to me. I've never been in this situation before, and it's not something I'd ever thought about before. It's too much to handle, too much to worry about, too much to think about. It's complicated and wonderful and unstable and breathtaking and painful many other things – I could spend days naming them.

It doesn't matter what it is, though. What matters is that it's happening to me, I feel it all through my body. It's like an electric feeling running through my body, through my veins, from my head to my toes, reaching every corner of my body. And as I look up at him, it all hits me at once, the realization of what's happened – I'm in love, and there's no going back now. It's too late, but I don't care.

I kiss him and he kisses me back, and I love the feeling of it. I pay attention to every little detail and every feeling that's rushing through my body right now, and I've never felt more alive than now. Because I'm in love, and I don't want to change that.

_Got nothing but time on our hands_


	3. Mixed Tape

**Angel (pr0udpnaii x33) here! Ada challenged me to write a oneshot to the song 'Mixed Tape' by Jack's Mannequin. So here's the result!**

* * *

He crumpled up another sheet of paper, throwing it into the already overflowing trash can next to his desk. He looked out the hotel window and was surprised to see the sun peeking out over the horizon. He glanced at the Rolex on his wrist, confirming that it was indeed the next day.

He went into the bathroom to wash his face. This was the third time this week he had pulled an all-nighter trying to write a damn song.

He punched a pillow in frustration.

He was _Nate Black_ for crying out loud. Business man and main lyricist of uber popular, pop sensation, Connect 3.

But now, filled with all these emotions that were just dying to be put to words and music, Nate blanked. He couldn't think of a single word to start explaining how he felt.

And as all types of writers are aware of, writer's block sucks.

Nate fought the urge to scream out loud. He knew exactly _how_ he felt (pissed beyond control and even more hurt), but he just couldn't get those feelings translated onto paper.

He didn't even have to worry about the music for now. Shane and Jason said that they'd take care of that later. They _were_ the ones to tell him to try and let out all his emotions in a song in the first place.

That had been two weeks ago, after a month of watching Nate mope around.

He grabbed his iPod and plugged in the earphones into his ears, hoping to gain some inspiration from listening to some of his favorite artists, like Elvis Costello and the Jonas Brothers (though he'd never admit to the latter).

Plopping down onto his never-slept-in bed, he closed his eyes, letting his mind drift back to that horrible, horrible night.

_Nate ran up the stairs to his room, excited to be back at home after a four month tour. He threw his bags onto the floor, next to his immaculately organized closet. Then he noticed something that hadn't been there when he left four months ago._

_Sitting innocently in the middle of his perfectly made bed, sat a simple white envelope, his name written on the front in the all-so-familiar curly scrawl._

_A grin grew on Nate's face as he carefully opened the envelope. She was always leaving him sweet little reminders, and he had missed them, and her, while he had been away on tour._

_As he read the letter, however, his grin fell as his brows furrowed in confusion. By the end of the letter,_ _tears were slipping down his cheeks. After rereading the letter two more times, he ripped it up, throwing the little pieces around his room. Even still, her words remained burned into his mind._

_"Dearest Nate,_

_"As cliche as it sounds, by the time you read this, I'll be gone. Not geographically, of course, I love it here too much to move. But emotionally, I won't be here for you anymore. I don't know if that made much sense, but what I'm trying to say is that I can't do this anymore. 'This' being 'us.' _

_"I'm breaking up with you. _

_"I know this is a horrible way to go about doing this, but I honestly can not think of another way. It's just so hard to get in touch with you. _

_"But don't think that's the only reason why I'm doing what I'm doing. It's only part of the reason._

_"This may be heard to hear, but I've found someone else. He makes me happy, and I hope you don't hate me for this._

_"I'll always love you, Nate Black. But this is for the best. I'm sorry._

_"Goodbye, Nate._

_xoxoxo"_

Despite being in his hometown for over a week, he didn't go looking for her. Not to plead for her forgiveness, or even to yell at her betrayal. Just the thought of seeing her with another guy was too much.

A tear rolled down his cheek. Even now, almost two months later, it still hurt. It still made him angry.

As the song 'Don't Breathe' by Brad Paisley came on, he felt as if he were back at that night. Why couldn't he write something like this song? Something that speaks to the soul.

As another song that 'spoke' to him came on ('Lonely for Her' by Jack's Mannequin), he was hit by an idea.

He ran back to his desk and started scribbling into his notebook. As he flipped open his laptop he let his thoughts wander back to _her_.

She was always a night owl, so she'd probably still be sleeping. There was a pang in his heart as he pictured her sleeping form. She always looked so angelic when she was sleeping...

Clicking the button on his laptop with a satisfied smile on his face, Nate finally felt a sense of peace within himself.

**xoxoxo**

_One week later..._

She ran down the steps to the front door. Her brows furrowed as she realized nobody was there. She almost shut the door before the reflection of a CD case caught her eye, sitting patiently on her doorstep.

Suspicious, she opened it to find a CD with the words 'Mixed Tape' on it in permanent marker, the handwriting as familiar as her own. In the sleeve was a folded sheet of notebook paper.

She read,

_I made this mixed tape to let you know how I feel. It's like I wrote every note, that's how well they describe how I'm feeling right now._

_You hurt me so much, I couldn't even write a song about it. _

_Don't worry, I don't hate you. I just can't. I hope you're happy, whoever you may be with._

_I love you._

_Goodbye._

* * *

**Not quite sure how much I liked it myself, but review and let me know what YOU think! )**

**xoxoxo**


	4. Because You Live

**'Ello. Pyro aka FreakyGeniusGirl here. FreakyNocturnalGirl aka Kana challenged me to write a ficlet based off of "Because You Live", so here it is. Read, enjoy, review. Thanks!**

* * *

Name's Nate. I'm twenty-two years old. I'm in a band with my best friends (and at times, worst enemies), Jason and Shane. I've been called the "boring" or "synonymous to wall paper" part of the group, but I don't really care. In fact, I have to say that I like the background. I could never deal with the stress of being in every damn teen dream magazine out there, as Shane does every God damn day.

Shane is what those teeny boppers call "hottie of the month", except that Shane is "hottie of the month" _every _month of the year. He's handled the attention in typical fashion: Egotistically and with a "woe is me" attitude. I have to say that he's come a long way though. He's not a complete ass anymore, nope. Usually only on Mondays, the occasional Friday, and on a handful of Saturdays.

Jason evens out Shane's negativity though. In fact, he's so damn optomistic that there's some days that I prefer Shane's pissy outlook to Jason's "little miss sunshine" one. I don't know what to say about myself, really. I'm me, Nate Black: guitarist, vocalist, "wallpaper".

Most days I'm a pretty happy dude. Today is not one of those days. Today has been a shitty, gloomy day. The rain hasn't helped much either.

And there goes my ringtone. Picking up the phone, I answer, "What?"

"Whoa, is this a bad time?" A giggle sounds from the opposite end. "You're not having one of your bitter days are you?"

Despite the mere handful of words spoken, a wistful smile graces my face. "Hey," I start out softly. "Um, no, I'm okay."

"Okay doesn't mean you're not bitter, I know you Nate. You're okay, right?"

I swallow, switching the phone to my other hand. It's a while before I find the right response. "I'm okay Mitch, really. I just haven't been sleeping well for the last few days. I'll be fine."

It's always been too strange for me, knowing that Mitchie was there. Knowing that she was there for ME. When Shane was attending Camp Rock, Jason and I figured it was only a matter of time before she and Shane would be labelled an item. They were of course, it was inevitable. They just weren't as happy as they thought they'd be. Mitchie was still in high school. Shane, Jason, and I had the band. Plus there was the slight age gap between them.

A few weeks after Camp Rock, a media catastrophe, and another inevitable breakdown for both parties, later, the two broke up. I think I must've been the most shocked of them all. In my head I had already accepted the fact that Shane and Mitchie were an item. Shane and Mitchie would eventually get married. Shane and Mitchie would make a dozen carbon copies of themselves and together, they'd form their own little band. Perfect scenario, perfect end to the _perfect_ love story.

Except that the entire image I had built of them came crashing down the day that Shane announced their breakup. They promised to remain in touch and to stay friends. A part of me felt confused. I honestly could find no reason as to why the two would break up. The Final Jam proved how great of a pair they were. But they had and they were okay with it.

So I called her. I called for two reasons, I guess. One: for her. And two: for me. I won't lie, the day, the very millisecond that my lifeless eyes laid eyes on her, I knew. I knew the unlimited amount of greatness that lied untapped within her, I knew that behind her big, brown eyes was a fierce and fiery girl waiting to be unleashed, but most of all, I knew that I wouldn't find another gem out there, as amazing as she.

And of course, I was right. I just had one big ass obstacle in front of me: Shane. How to eliminate Shane was the task I found no solution to until he said they weren't going out anymore. The inner me was jumping for glee at the revelation, but as part of the male code goes, you're not supposed to date your best friend's ex, it simply isn't done.

But was I, Nate Black, going to let some silly obstacle stand in the way of my chance for a happy ending?

Hell no.

Nervous as Jason had been, when he asked out Tess (she said yes, shocker, no?), I dialed Mitchie's number (stolen from Shane's phone), leaving a pathetic voicemail.

Did she call me back? Yes, she did. We talked about her and Shane, she asked why I bothered to call and I reached over to kiss her. To say she was shocked would be the understatement of about twenty lifetimes as she not only pulled back immediately, but she scrambled out of her chair, ran away, and didn't come back.

To say that _I _was crushed would be the understatement of a hundred lifetimes as I not only trashed my apartment, but I slept in the same outfit for five days, refused to watch anything but the _Saw _series and insisted that all my calls be put on hold.

Mitchie was one of those few calls. When I recieved that bit of information, I was hesitant to listen to the message. I did though, and much to my relief, she wanted to meet up again.

So we did.

And she apologized.

Right before she kissed me.

Happiest moment of my life, hands down. Mitchie was a treasure to hold on to and I wasn't going to let her go, not if I could help it.

As I think back to the events that led to Us, I smile. For the first time in our fair bit of history, I softly declare, "I love you."

I hear a small gasp before she meekly responds, "Nate, I-

I cut her off. "Don't ruin this for me Mitchie. I love you and whether you say you love me back or if you're unsure, I will _always _love you."

I can't see her, but I don't have to, to know that she's biting her lip. Faintly, ever so faintly, she murmurs, "Silly boy, I thought you would've realized by now that I love you more than life itself. Did I have to spell it out for you?"

Did I mention how much I love this girl?

* * *

**A/N: The end. Whoo. Go Pyro, it's your birthday, we're going to party like it's your birthday, we're going to sip fruit punch like it's your birthday, and you know we don't give a hoot if it's your birthday! Haha, okay, review? Please? Thank you! :D**


	5. Perfectly

****

Hey. I'm Kana, aka FreakyNocturnalGirl. Pyro challenged me to write a fic based on the song, "Perfectly." I tried to make it angsty, but we all know angst ain't my thing, and songfics aren't my forte. So now it's more of a weak drama-ish piece of crap. Here it is. Hope you like it.

* * *

Caitlyn stared into her own eyes in a mirror and saw herself. Several years prior, she would have been disgusted.

She had tried so hard to be like Tess. She tried to be snobby and mean, she tried getting golden highlights, (Caitlyn refused to change her hair color.), she tried to wear designer clothes like Tess. But none of these worked. It all came down to one thing. Caitlyn was Caitlyn, and Tess was Tess.

She tried to be flawless, but Tess always found something to criticize. Tess claimed it was because she loved Caitlyn like a sister. The producer barked out a humorless laugh. Tess sure had an odd way of showing affection.

She tried so hard to be like her 'sister,' but when it all came down to looking at her reflection, Caitlyn was Caitlyn, and no one else. She had always known this, but refused to believe it, as her dream to be Tess' carbon copy overruled her own thoughts.

When it came to the outfits, Caitlyn had no hesitation to imitate Tess, despite the fact that she preferred T-shirts, muted colors, and sneakers over the blonde bimbo's tight-fitting tops, bright, almost gaudy, colors, and her dreaded high heels.

But she didn't care. She tried as hard as she could to be like Tess. But it had always seemed that they were from different planets. Caitlyn having numerous flaws, while Tess had none. She supposed someone had to deal with it.

She tried to live up to Tess, attempting to make her proud. As a part of said attempt, she couldn't act as herself. She had to act superficial, rude, and mean. But Caitlyn soon got tired of her charade. And yet, she still tried to imitate Tess. Soon, when she looked in the mirror, Caitlyn saw herself, once more. And this time, she didn't mind as much.

Long after she'd clawed out of the clutches of Tess, she'd met Mitchie. And those three words she'd uttered to the newcomer made it finally sink in.

"Hi, I'm Caitlyn."

That was what Mitchie would know her as. Caitlyn. Not Tess. Just Caitlyn.

Caitlyn gazed at her reflection once more. This time, she saw Caitlyn, and only herself. Not Tess' imitation, and certainly not Tess. She saw herself.

And this time, it all fit in perfectly.

* * *

**Well, there you go. It's not my best work, but let's face it. I'm better at writing crack fics. But this was fairly... decent. Reviews are appreciated.**


	6. Stupid for You

**FreakyLanguageGirl (valele) updating! Angel challenged me to do Stupid for You by Marie Digby.**

**--**

_It's not everyday _

_That I meet a person quite like you _

_Perfect every way._

You know, if you'd told me in June that I'd be going to Camp Rock, I would've said I knew. If you told me I'd be going to Camp Rock, meeting Connect 3, finally getting over Tess and her evil ways, making an amazing friend, and having the summer of my life, I would've laughed in your face.

I'm serious. I would've. How do you expect me to believe all that, when all my other summers at Camp Rock had been nothing if not non-descript? After getting "dumped" by Tess, I hung out with Lola, Barron and Sander, and as much as I like them, nothing happened.

Really. Nothing.

But this summer was different, and in a good way. This summer, I met Mitchie, this calm, sweet girl who somehow left the entire camp upside down. And even though I really didn't like her at first, I came to realize that she was probably the best friend I'd ever had.

She just fell under Tess' evil grasp. It's understandable.

And Shane and Jason and Nate? They're all so funny and cute and such amazing guys (once you get over the whole Shane-the-jerky-popstar thing), and they just work so well together, even when they're fighting!

That's actually how I met them, kind of. They were fighting, and I sort of walked by and they just dragged me into it.

_I finally found the nerve to confess that it's you__ that I want_

_I don't care if I act a fool _

_I would damn near beg for you._

"Jason, that duck was not black," I heard someone exclaim. He sounded really frustrated, but I didn't understand then why he would be.

"Dude, it totally was black!" this Jason person exclaimed.

"Guys," a third voice said, sounding tired. "What does it matter if it was black or brown?"

As I kept walking, I came closer to them. From where I was now, I could see three guys standing by the water, their backs to me.

I saw Jason and the other guy turn to look at the third one. Involuntarily, I walked closer to them. They just seemed so… I don't know, but whatever was, I wanted to know more. It was my curiosity! My mom always says that it's going to kill me some day, but my shrink says it's a good thing. So ha!

Anyway, as I walked closer, you would've thought I'd recognize them, right? I mean, here were these three guys, known all around the world, arguing right in front of me, and I didn't know who they were?

Well, I didn't know then. I know now, and it wasn't much longer until I found out.

"What are you guys arguing about?" I asked as I approached them. "Something about ducks?"

The one closest to me turned around, and I saw who he was. "Yeah, these idiots saw a duck, and they're arguing about what color it was," said Nate Black, guitarist of Connect 3.

"Hey, I know who you are!" I exclaimed, and his eyebrows rose immediately.

"You should," said the first voice, Shane Gray. "We're Connect 3, after all. You should know who we are!"

"Shane, be nice to her," the second one, Jason Green, said. "Hi, I'm Jason!" he exclaimed happily, offering his hand.

"I know," I said, his infectious grin on my face, as I shook his hand.

"Of course you know," Shane said. "Of course she knows, Jason, we're Connect 3."

Ignoring Shane, Nate offered his hand. "Hi, I'm Nate."

I shook his hand. "Nice to meet you," I said. "Nate-who-I've-never-heard-of."

Yeah, I threw that in there just to spite Shane. I know, I'm evil.

Nate and I connected pretty well, and we had a lot in common.

Shane and I had a lot of arguments about stupid things, since he loved to pick fights with people.

Jason always made my day better, and I could talk to him anytime.

All in all, the Connect 3 members were my first real friends.

Did I forget to mention? The arguments about the ducks went on, and they did drag me into it. I just spared you of all that.

_The proper thing to do  
Is for me to act like a lady and wait  
For you to make the first move._

I don't know when I first started liking Nate, but it wasn't this slow, gradual process, either. It was more like it was there all along, but I woke up one day and I just knew.

Yeah, I just knew.

Just like that.

I'm not even kidding.

Anyway, so I knew, and instantly, that made it all awkward. He wasn't doing anything – in fact, I think he was confused. It was me; I was the one being weird.

Like I started giggling a lot around him, and I'd bat my eyelashes a lot. I couldn't help it, it was kind of like a reflex. You know? Like the guy, flirt with the guy.

It's retarded, I know.

And of course, I didn't say anything, ever. At least, nothing that would help my case. I just acted real weird, waiting for him to do something.

Does that sound remotely like me? I don't think it does.

I mean, I'm Cait. I'm witty, bold, blunt, and I am not flirty.

Yeah, tell that to Nate.

"Hey, Nate," I said, leaning in slightly. It was the day after Final Jam, and Jason, Shane, Mitchie, Nate and I were eating breakfast.

"Hey, Cait," he answered, shooting me that lazy smile of his. "How are you?"

That's one thing I like about him. He doesn't ask "sup?" he asks "how are you?". I answered: "I'm fine, thank you. You?"

The conversation seems so awkward. Jeez. "I'm very well," he answered. Mitchie looked at me, eyebrows raised. I could totally hear her thinking, _what's up with the awkward conversation?_

See, it's only been a day since I woke up and smelled the flowers. Is that the expression? Anyway, I realized yesterday I like him, but I barely saw him, and now that I'm here, I can't stop my flirting.

"Oh, I'm sure you are," I told him, and immediately realized how stupid that sounds.

"What do you mean?" he asked, looking confused.

"Well, duh, she means she's sure you're well," Jason volunteered.

"Shut up, Jason. You're such an idiot," Shane snapped at him.

"Shane!" Mitchie gasped, and thankfully, the attention was not on me anymore.

Except Nate was still looking at me, so I smiled politely and left, before any more of this "accidental flirting" could happen.

_Why's it always feel like I am  
Chasing love when nothing's there  
And here I go just making the same mistakes._

Fifteen minutes later, I was at peace by the lake, right where I first met Connect 3. I was just thinking about anything and everything, when I heard footsteps behind me.

"Go away, I'm thinking," I said, not caring who it was.

This person ignored me, however, and just kept walking toward me.

"Mitchie says you're flirting with me. Is that true?" I turned around surprised when I heard Nate's voice.

"Um, maybe?" I said while I cursed Mitchie in my mind for telling him that. She could be so clueless sometimes! Sure, yeah, she's all happy in La-La-Loveland, so she has to just meddle and make it all weird!

Okay, so it was weird before.

But it's even weirder now!

His voice brought me back from my mental ramblings. "Why?"

"Why what?" I asked quite stupidly.

"Why are you doing it?"

Okay, I so did this on purpose. "Why am I doing what?"

He frowned at me. "Why are you flirting with me?"

"What's wrong with it?" I asked.

"Nothing is, I just want to know if you, um…" he trailed off, and I smiled. Who knew making him uncomfortable would be so much fun?

"If I what?" I asked, smiling widely now.

"Caitlyn, stop it," he snapped at me, and I stopped smiling suddenly. "You know what I mean, and if you don't answer me, I'm going to…"

He was making it all worse, can't you see? "You're going to what?" I asked, but this time, I was serious.

"I'm going to do this," he said, and before I knew what was happening, he kissed me.

I kissed him back, duh. But not right then. Then, I pulled away. "Whoa! What was that?" I exclaimed.

Confused, he frowned and asked: "I thought you liked me?"

"How'd you know?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at him.

"Because you were flirting with me?" he seemed unsure of his answer, but answered anyway.

"What, that? That I flirted with you doesn't necessarily mean I like you. I mean, I can flirt with anyone I want and it doesn't mean I like them. What if I flirted with Jason, or with Shane? Do I like them if I do? No!" I was ranting now. I stood up and started pacing, but he didn't move.

I walked a couple of feet, then turned to see him standing up now. I didn't even realize he'd gotten up, but he did, and he was staring at me with his intense eyes. "What?" I asked.

"Caitlyn."

"Yes?"

"Do you like me?"

When he asked that, my first thought was _oh, no, what am I going to do?_

But then I nodded, and instantly, he was inches away from me, and his arms were going around my waist. And then his lips touched mine, and I lost all conscious thoughts I ever had.

Well, maybe not. But it felt like it, so shush and let me finish.

And I kissed him back. You can bet I did. But then he pulled away, and I stared at him.

"Why are you staring at me?" he asked.

I shrugged. "I'm sorry I made everything complicated," I said.

"That's your thing, isn't it? Making things complicated?"

I nodded again. But instead of saying anything, I placed my hands on the back of his neck, and pulled him to me.

He caught the hint, and kissed me again.

What? I couldn't help it!

_I've fallen stupid for you  
Oh, oh stupid for you  
Oh, oh, oh, oh._

--

**Well, there ya have it. Thoughts? Personally, I think it sucks, and I'm not even saying that to get more reviews. Convince me otherwise?**


	7. I Wonder

**veiled affection  
**(nate / tess)

**Hey hey hey!! FreakOneShotGirl (Katie) here with her challenge response. Which was "I Wonder" by Diffuser. lol, now I just gotta do the song Ada challenged me with. / lol.**

--

_and i wonder if you're happy,  
or just glad to see me scarred._

The clock ticks mercilessly, loudly, as Tess Tyler slips her hand into Nate Gray's back pocket. The time they have together is minimal – Tess goes on stage in little over twenty minutes.

Their meetings are always hasty, though, so they're used to being rushed.

The fervor with which they kiss is quick and practiced, a familiar tangle of impatient tongues and hands in hair. Tess saves her roughest kisses for Nate, because he's already scarred, so it doesn't matter if he hurts a little more (or so she selfishly believes). Nate foolishly loves Tess, so his kisses are varied, and he often wonders why Tess doesn't offer him the same courtesy.

"Hurry up," Tess gasps aloud as Nate's teeth graze her earlobe, "stop teasing me, Nathaniel."

Her tone is a strange combination of breathy and businesslike, but Nate complies because he's Tess's _lapdog_. Her meaningless play thing, good for nothing some good sex and a few false "I love yous" (at least on her part).

He slips his hand to the zipper on the back of her glittering pink dress, fingering the silky material as it falls to the dressing room floor. Nate's rough hands run all over her porcelain skin, and he smirks when Tess shudders with pleasure.

"S-stop, Nate," she pleads, her head falling back.

Nate takes advantage of his dominance. He kisses her neck, and a short hiss elicits from Tess's lipglossed mouth.

"_Damn it, Nate,_" Tess curses and pulls herself together, trying to regain her composure.

Her head snaps back up, and she focuses on a new task – unbuttoning his white dress shirt.

He smiles blissfully as her fingers accidentally graze his exposed chest.

"You're too attached to this," Tess murmurs, her lips pressing kisses to his neck as she finished with his shirt. It ends up somewhere near her dress, the stark white a sharp contrast to the hot pink.

"To what?" he asks, allowing Tess's fingers to undo his beige slacks.

He came to Tess's concert looking extraordinarily messy. Wrinkled white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a pair of pants that aren't even his (in case you're wondering, they're his brother Jason's).

But now his shirt is gone, and his pants are about to be cast aside as well. Pants are not necessary for the activities that Tess has in mind.

"To me. To this," Tess sighs melodramatically, tugging at the zipper of his khakis.

"What gives you that impression?"

Tess is right – but Nate is much too stubborn to accept defeat, and just unclasps her lacy, strapless bra (because she hates straps).

"You kiss me too gentle. You never say goodbye. You're attached to me, admit it, Nathaniel," Tess smirks, her inner sadist coming out as her fingers graze the waistband of his boxers.

Nate doesn't respond, only kisses her as harshly as he possibly can, just to show her how very _un_attached he is. Even though he's lying to himself (but not Tess, because Tess always knows).

"Is that all you've Nate? We both _know _you're still in love with me," she groans, tangling her fingers in Nate's curls as he nibbles at her neck.

And those words are the last straw.

Nate bites at her neck, breaking the skin slightly, and Tess takes a sharp breath inwardly at the sudden pain.

Their contact is rough, angry and Nate is sure that every kiss they press to each other's skin will leave bruises.

"I'm going to have a lot of explaining to do when Shane sees me," Tess laughs slightly as Nate runs a hand through her cascade of honey blonde hair.

A pang of guilt shoots through Nate at the mention of his older brother, and a dull ache sets in his stomach. He swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing, as he erases the image of his brother Shane's face.

"I don't care," Nate lies again, pulling her black panties down. Tess follows his lead.

They stand, completely exposed to one another, for a moment, and Nate can think that they're a couple, like they used to be. Before Shane stole Tess away. But no hard feelings, because Nate couldn't hold a grudge even if he tried – at least not against Shane or Jason.

"Do you love me, Tess?" Nate whispers tenderly into Tess's ear, though he already knows the answer.

She dodges the question; _"Just screw me."_

He doesn't.

"Oh, for God's sake, Nate. Yes, okay, I _love_ you. Now will you screw me?" Tess huffs impatiently.

It's a lie – she doesn't love him – but it's enough.

He enters her quickly, and she bites back a scream of pleasure.

Nate says nothing, only buries his face in Tess's shoulder. Her hands tangle in his hair, and for a moment he can pretend that she's _his_, that the golden band on her left finger bonds her to _Nate _and not his _brother_.

He doesn't notice, but his own ring – a simple band of gold – is like a shackle, tying him to a women he loves, but not as much as he loves Tess. A shackle that keeps him away from the girl he loves most, and makes what he's currently doing that much more inappropriate.

He pulls out slowly, and lifts his head to see Tess's eyes closed in ecstasy, her breathing heavy.

"Thank you," she says, and he kisses her forehead, "but we have to stop doing this."

Nate looks at her wearily; "Why?"

She's told him this lots of times before, all for different reasons. The excuse she uses this time is the most logical.

"Because you love me."

Before Nate can respond, his cell phone goes off in the pocket of the khakis that aren't even his.

"You should answer."

"It's not important," Nate shakes his head.

"Suit yourself. I'm going. And I know you have some people waiting," Tess shrugs as she tugs on her panties and bra.

Nate is silent, quietly dressing. His phone continues to ring, but he refuses to answer. It's probably just Jason or (God forbid) Shane.

As if by magic, Tess is suddenly fully dressed, shoving on her ridiculously high heels.

"Goodbye Nate," Tess flashes one of those generic smiles she's perfected before stalking out of the room.

Nate only smiles sadly and finished putting on his shoes.

After Tess shuts the door, Nate collapses onto the floor, and stares at the glitter star stuck on the wall. It's pink and sparkles when the light hits it, and Tess's name is on it, in conspicuous white script.

_Tess Tyler_. Because she refused to take Shane's name.

He reaches into his pocket for his cell phone, and listens to the message that the person who called left.

_Hi, Nate? It's Mitchie. I was just worried, because you haven't called all day. You don't have to call me back, because I know that you're probably tired, but I wanted you to know that I love you. So...I love you, okay? _

It's his wife. It's Mitche. And he smiles as he listens, because he knows she means every word.

He hangs up the phone, and stares at the Tess star, and then at himself in the mirror.

He looks like a wreck – hair too long (his curls fall into his eyes), rumpled clothing, broken heart.

And as he stares at his reflection, he absolutely despises what he sees – a liar, a cheater, a _coward_.

So he stands up.

And he leaves Tess Tyler-never-Gray's dressing room.

He takes a subway back ti the town where he's staying in a hotel with Jason and Shane, and ignores their questions ("Where the hell have you been?" from Shane and "Why are you wearing my good pants?!" from Jason).

And they take their tour bus. And they drive _all _night, because Nate needs to get back home, away from the temptation of being so close yet so far to Tess.

During that time, Nate thinks about Tess and Mitchie. How Tess kisses him roughly, with little to no emotion other than anger, and Mitchie kisses him all kinds of ways each touch of their lips new and familiar.

Tess screams profanities when her and Nate have _sex_. Mitchie moans words of love as and devotion as they _make love_.

Tess is cold-hearted and bitter, looking for a perfect little toy. Mitchie is warm and inviting, wanting to give her whole heart away.

Nate can't figure out why he loves Tess more than Mitchie, especially when he finally gets home, and Mitchie tears up at the sight of him.

"I miss you so _so _much," she whispers, and he kisses her gently, "you're not allowed to leave me anymore, okay?"

Nate grins (and it feels good to smile and mean it); "Silly Michelle."

"Silly Nathaniel," Mitchie mimicks before burying her head in his shoulder.

His cell phone vibrates in his pocket, and he takes it out.

_CALLING: Tess._

"Who is it?" Mitchie asks.

"No one important," Nate stares at his phone before tossing it across the room.

Nate is more than ready to let go of Tess, even though he knows it's going to hurt more than anything else.

He's going to say _goodbye_ – even if it kills him.

--

**The ending was...not great, but I already re-wrote it like six times. /**

**:DD Leave your thoughts, por favor.**


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